I Never Saw You Coming and I'll Never Be the Same
by antidote224
Summary: A look into the head of Finn Hudson. This is the story of how he loved a small girl with big eyes and bigger dreams.


I watched her walk away from me with a straight spine and tears in her eyes. I felt like my whole life had been ripped apart, and in a way, it had. Something had broken, and nothing would ever be the same. I could almost see the tether that held us together snap with the weight of my insecurities and my vulnerabilities and my inability to believe that I wouldn't always be worthless. There is only so much a person can take, and the crying girl walking away from me had reached her limit.

I met her in my second year of high school and I have loved her ever since, even if I didn't realize it. She snuck up on me. Well, not literally. She was outrageous and in your face, and really, anything but subtle; it was the way she worked herself into my heart that took me by surprise.

By the time we got to graduation, I couldn't imagine my life before her broad grins and loud laughter. I couldn't fathom a world without the image of her hair falling in front of her blushing face or without the click of her Mary Janes against the tile floors of our high school as she strode quickly to her destination. I still do not remember much about my life before her crazy plans and sometimes-selfish actions that somehow made her even more beautiful to me. Maybe it was because the idea that she was flawed made her seem more real to me, or that it was maybe plausible that I deserved her.

Deep down, I knew it would never work. I never let myself dream, and she dreamed every second of every day. Her dreams weren't wishes; her dreams were realities that she worked towards. I had never met another person who convinced every single person she met that she would be successful one day. She was and is and will always be an enigma; she is the true-life definition of a Born Star.

I wasn't much at all. In fact, I was everything she shouldn't have loved. I was ignorant and stupid and far too focused on what other people thought of me to really love who I was. I could sing and pretend all I wanted, but everyone knew that I was a pathetic leader and a long shot for everything I wanted; football, singing, acting. That's why she was so amazing; she made me feel a little bit special. Girls like that come once in a lifetime.

There are girls like Tina Cohen-Chang, who love without thought and, really, you love her the same way—without thought.

There are girls like Mercedes Jones, whose love is always paired with honesty and healing that make you feel like a better person just for having the honor of her loving you in some way.

There are girls like Santana Lopez, who may not know quite how to love, but she tries her hardest, and it makes you try your hardest, as well.

There are girls like Brittany Pierce, whose love is so pure and innocent and delicate that when her heart breaks, yours does, too.

There are some girls, like Quinn Fabray, who demand to be loved without even realizing that she demands it. I loved her, too, though differently. There is beauty, and there is Quinn Fabray. There is smart, and there is Quinn Fabray. There is strength, and there is Quinn Fabray, and I was lucky enough to call her mine for even a short while. But she didn't make me feel as special as She did.

Because _that_ girl was the moon and the stars and the sun and her love shone brighter than all of those things on the dark skyline that clouded my mind for so long. Without her, it is so dark. But there is also a lingering light that I know will never fade because I had the honor of loving her and of her loving me. She was like a child's first pair of glasses, making me realize that the way I saw the world before her was simply a blurry mess that fogged over the beautiful things around me. She was like the rush of a roller coaster down the first hill, filling me with fear and adrenaline and, for the first time, passion. She was the first snowfall, filled with hope and reflecting light and beauty all around her even in the night.

I let her go, then went back, and then _she_ let _me_go. I fought for her quite a bit throughout high school. I made a lot of stupid decisions that hurt her (and a lot of other people) in the process and I know there are people who won't ever be able to forgive me, no matter how much I change (which is strange, because I don't even feel like the same person I was back then). But I love and loved her so much that I probably would have given up everything for her then. I'm not sure at what point she became my 'everything', but I didn't realize she was until I let her walk away.

I was so tempted to try again; to run after her and beg her to love me just one more time and give me just one more chance, but I knew it was impossible. I knew I wasn't helping anyone, and that was probably the hardest pill to swallow; that I really was becoming someone hollow and broken, despite her love.

The most beautiful thing happened, though, when she left me; her love lingered in my bones, filling my lungs and helping me to sing again. It was like she loved me so much that it seared into my soul and I began to learn to love myself. She taught me that I wasn't worthless, and I began to try to believe that. She taught me how to dream, so I let myself try.

I became a better man because of it, and maybe I should have gone after her when I realized it. Maybe I should have called her that morning when I woke up and felt like a real human being. Maybe I should have called her the day I enrolled in classes at UCLA and moved in with Puck and Mercedes. I probably shouldn't have called her the day I…well, the day I wanted to die. I'm glad I didn't. Call her, I mean. Sometimes I felt like I owed her just one phone call, so that she'd know I was okay. But every time I dialed her number, I hung up, knowing that it would be too hard for both of us.

In my English Lit class, I learned that 'star-crossed lovers' were two people that could never live happily ever after; that their destinies crossed, but didn't work in favor of their love. Now, I'm not trying to say that I'm some kind of Romeo, but that's the only way I can describe why I let her live her life without me. I could never be happy with what made her happy, and she would never settle for the life I want. In fact, I still don't know what I want; I just know that it will not compare to the glamorous life of Broadway and film that she deserves.

Her life will be filled with stars. I can only hope that she will remember the one I named Finn Hudson.

Her name was Rachel Berry, and this is the story of how I loved her.


End file.
